


Intrusion

by Asynca



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Drabble, F/F, because what is commitment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 17:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16141748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asynca/pseuds/Asynca
Summary: Jaina pays an unexpected visit to Sylvanas to deliver an urgent message. Drabble.





	Intrusion

Sylvanas already knew she had traitors in her midst, especially in  _this_ infernal place. She wasn’t aware just how many traitors there were in Ogrimmar and how powerful they were likely to be until she was suddenly aware she was not alone in the tent that was supposed to pass as her ‘secure quarters’. 

She reached for her bow; a subtle movement. “I’d advise against trying anything foolish,” she said neutrally.

“Someone should have told you that before you filled Darkshore with your  _filth_.” A woman’s voice; the woman stepped out of the shadows and pulled back her hood.

Sylvanas recognised her immediately and her eyebrows rose. Well, well, well: the Proudmoore girl.

Changing her mind, left her bow where it was; Jaina Proudmoore was  _angry_ , but she wasn’t stupid. “Care for a spot of tea?” she asked, imitating a Kul Tiran invitation. “For ‘filth’, I think you’ll find we cater rather well.”

Jaina ignored her. “We need to talk.”

Sylvanas sighed and leant back in her chair, giving her a measured look. “Suit yourself, but the time for talking is long over.”

“Ordinarily, I’d agree,” Jaina said evenly; although to Sylvanas’ trained eye she looked to be struggling with her composure. “I’d like nothing more that to raze you from Azeroth at this very second. You are a  _monster_.”

Sylvanas didn’t even blink. “As your Alliance so enjoys constantly reminding me,” she said evenly. She considered the woman: Jaina was breathing quickly, her lips we pressed in a thin, tight line and her cheeks were flushed. Whatever she had come to tell Sylvanas was urgent and necessary, and she was absolutely loath to be carrying whatever message it was. That was interesting.This Proudmoore girl was more interesting than whatever message she was carrying, though. 

Sylvanas toyed with the idea of making her wait to deliver it. She wondered how Jaina would handle it: would she blow up at Sylvanas and attack her? Would she just stand in place pretending she was perfectly fine while she grew more and more flushed and agitated? Or—more likely—was Jaina’s anger cold and bitter? Would she be nasty, speaking vile words and trying to cut Sylvanas down to size?

Cold anger, Sylvanas understood. She liked it. It was familiar and comfortable to her like slipping into an old pair of beloved boots. She very much hoped Jaina’s anger was cold.

 _Let’s find out_ , Sylvanas thought to herself, smiling. “If you want to deliver your important message to me, Lady Jaina, you’re going to need to be patient. I have ever so much important business to attend to, being Warchief and all,” she said, and gestured at furs on the ground in front of her table. “Please, make yourself comfortable down on the floor while you wait.”

Jaina stared her dead in the eyes—the hard, cold stare of someone who was about to make a very difficult decision. Her jaw so tight she almost spoke through gritted teeth, she nevertheless said, “Very well, but you delay hearing it at your own peril,” and lowered herself rather gracefully onto the fur.

Interesting. Sylvanas was somewhat impressed. Most humans were hot-headed little attack machines, much like their allies the worgen.  _Well_ , Sylvanas supposed, Jaina  _had_ been spending rather a lot of time with the most patient of races, recently: dragons. Sylvanas had wondered about why Kalecgos would bother with a human, but with that particular human currently kneeing supplicant in front of her, she understood the appeal.

And there  _was_ plenty of appeal about the Proudmoore girl—objectively speaking, of course. 

 _If only she were already dead_ , Sylvanas lamented to herself, before donning a rather smug smile and pretending to be very, very busy with paperwork.


End file.
